


New

by AllyThePotato



Series: And Why Is That? [14]
Category: Glee
Genre: Crying, Greenwich Village, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-20 22:08:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30011676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllyThePotato/pseuds/AllyThePotato
Summary: New means no attachments, no heart break, no feelings. Yes, new sounds beautiful, amazing, infinite. No strings attached. Blaine needs that—his strings seem to have broken, snapped—maybe he pulled them too hard. Maybe they weren’t meant for him, he isn't quite sure. He doesn't really want to know, not right now. Now is the time for New. New with no strings and no feelings and no Kurt and no Sebastian.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel, Kurt Hummel/Sebastian Smythe
Series: And Why Is That? [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2181036
Comments: 30
Kudos: 40





	New

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ohjeezglee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohjeezglee/gifts), [backslashdelta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/backslashdelta/gifts), [Carmex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carmex/gifts).



> I WROTE ALL OF THIS OUT ON PAPER FIRST OH MY GOD
> 
> So I had exams today. I did alright apparently. Yay. 
> 
> I was going to do a Burt chapter. I *was.* and then I was doing ACT prep and listening to Adele and I was struck with inspiration and literally wrote every word of this down on paper in my spiral notebook and it's not Burt its Blaine but hopefully you'll forgive me after you read—I really enjoyed writing this one. Burt's coming soon, i swear.
> 
> Anyway, this week is spring break so updates may not be daily, but be on the lookout :) 
> 
> Enjoy loves.
> 
> For Becky, Sim, and Anna

The city has always been loud, deafeningly so. Blaine used to hate it, the noise of human life—it was the only thing he complained about when describing New York. It never sleeps. But now he finds comfort in its endless noise, the infinite buzz of subways and taxis and _life_.

It proves that he, Kurt, and Sebastian aren't the only ones fumbling through their lives. There are other people—people who are falling in love and becoming best friends and breaking each other's hearts and surviving.

It proves he isn't alone.

It's the early hours of the morning, but the city is bright with artificial light. He walks down the street, unnoticed by his fellow night walkers. He must look a mess—disheveled and in his sleep wear, his hair undone and wild, face swollen and red with the remnants of tears. Though this fact would usually mortify him, Blaine cannot find the energy within himself to give a damn.

He looks frazzled and undone and heart broken because he absolutely is and he's so fucking tired of trying to pretend that he isn't 

He finds himself underground, beneath his lively city. He doesn't know where he's going, he's just walking aimlessly and hopping on train after train. He pushes forward leaving his familiar neighborhood for somewhere else, somewhere new.

He needs new.

New means no attachments, no heart break, no feelings. Yes, new sounds beautiful, amazing, infinite. No strings attached. Blaine needs that—his strings seem to have broken, snapped—maybe he pulled them too hard. Maybe they weren’t meant for him, he isn't quite sure. He doesn't really want to know, not right now. Now is the time for New. New with no strings and no feelings and no Kurt and no Sebastian.

He opens hisbeyes and he's walking down a street in Greenwich Village. There's musicians laughter and he's looking around at this nighttime world and beautiful nighttime people and he wonders if anyone here has ever felt this kind of heartbreak. 

Blaine follows the music, almost mechanically. It's loud and unfamiliar, a sub-rock genre he doesn't know very well. The entrance to the source is covered in neon lights and pride flags. He stands behind a group of drag queens, dressed extravagantly and fabulously in a rainbow of colors and six inch heels.

He's suddenly very self conscious, fisting his hands into the pockets of his pajama bottoms. He doesn't belong here, no—he should go home. Home is—

Home was safe and secure and theirs, but he isn't quite sure of that anymore.

"You got an invite?"

The voice snatches him out of his thoughts. He opens his mouth to speak. It comes out a little painful squeak. He winces, tries again. "I—I don't," he says. 

The bouncer looks him over with a skeptical brow. "Then why are you here?"

Blaine's eyes well up with tears and they burn their way down his face. "I—I just—I...fuck. Fuck. I'm sorry—"

A voice erupts from behind the bouncer, a low alto. "Luther, let this poor thing in," she says. Blaine can't see her, not in the crude lighting. "Come on, sweetie. Luther, he's with us." 

Blaine's mouth falls open a little when the bouncer—Luther, apparently—let's him inside. He frantically wipes his face, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Arms wrap around him as soon as he's inside, strong and secure. Despite the unfamiliarity, he melts into the embrace, wrapping his arms around the stranger. "Thank you," he says into her chest, though she probably can't hear him. He says I over and over again, still—until he's crying and trying to pull away.

She lets him pull back, but keeps her hands braced on his biceps, as if she's trying to keep him steady and upright. She's washed in purple lighting, but Blaine can make out her appearance now.

She's one of the drag queens from before, he realizes. Her skin is a rich chocolate, and she's tall—which is why Blaine was talking into her chest. She's got on a strapless royal blue dress, cut mid thigh, with sparkling silver heels. Her makeup matches, her eyeshadow glittering in the light. She's even got a few streaks of royal blue in her hair. It's a lot to take in all at once, and Blaine is already overwhelmed, so he just stares at her for a little while. She doesn't seem to mind, a small smile playing at her lips. After a few minutes Blaine realizes that she is really pretty.

She smiles down at him, and it's so genuine that he thinks she might hug him again. Instead she squeezes his arms. "Well, look at you," she says. She looks him over a few times, eyebrows raised. "What's your name, honey?"

Blaine stares at his feet, suddenly embarrassed again. She hooks a finger under his chin so that he's looking at her. "Blaine," he says, and he hates how hoarse his voice is. 

"Well, Blaine, I'm Vera," she introduces. Blaine nods. "What's wrong? Why are you here—boy troubles?"

Blaine actually laughs at that. It's a dark and hollow sound , and it makes Vera frown. "I wish it was that simple," he murmurs. He hopes she can hear him.

Vera nods and offers him her hand. He takes it without hesitation, ignoring the fact that she's a complete stranger. It wouldn't be the first time he took a stranger's hand.

Hopefully this time ends better than that one. 

She guides him over to who he believes are her friends, all huddled in a darkly lit corner of the club. He sits next to Vera on a lime green couch, feet tucked under him. He's still holding her hand when she says, "Now tell us what's going on."

Blaine really doesn't mean to tell them so much, but it's been building up for so long, it just kind of _spills_ out of him. He tells them everything, talking through the hoarseness and painful cracks in his voice.

He tells them about Kurt, how they've been together since they were sixteen, how they're twenty-seven now. How he met Sebastian the year before Kurt, how they became friends in Warbler practice.

He tells them about the wedding and how Kurt and Sebastian never seemed to get along. About how Sebastian was so unhappy with his job. The argument in their kitchen, the ripped up Culinary Application. How he pulled away not long after that, and for fear of losing him, Blaine never brought up cooking school again.

He tells them about the sudden change in dynamics, the suspicions. The change in the way he and Kurt had sex, the hickeys, the lavender and the glass and everything he could possibly remember.

They all sit and listen throughout all of it, quietly letting him talk. He's grateful for it, for them—these gentle, beautiful, _new_ strangers. But as soon as he finishes, when he explains how he ended up here, the questions start flying. 

"Why didn’t you say anything?" One of them asks. Blaine thinks her name is Allison. He shrugs.

"I didn't want to believe it," he says. "It seemed easier to ignore."

"Do you still love them?"

Blaine swallows and nods, but remains silent. 

"Sweetheart, why didn't you just _leave_? Why wait so long?"

Blaine considers the question. It's a valid point. He cou,could, have left at any time and been completely justified. But he didn’t. "I didn't want to be alone," he admits. "They're all I've got. I don't—I don’t know who I am without them."

Vera squeezes his hand. "I think it's time to learn, honey."

The statement startles Blaine. But she's right.

It's time to learn.

**Author's Note:**

> Thx for reading, I love hearing yalls reactions and feedback, thank you so much—what did you all think??


End file.
